


Muted

by daymaedoo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Dark Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, hance !, this fandom needs more soft hunk and lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 20:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19384108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daymaedoo/pseuds/daymaedoo
Summary: Hunk noticed things about Shiro that Lance didn't.





	Muted

It happened slowly at first. A nudge here and there. Maybe he was pushed into the wall but it’s okay, Shiro was never known for being extremely gentle with the paladins, especially Lance. In fact, he was always rough with the younger man, especially during training. So, Lance didn’t notice when he walked out of the glorified gym with more bruises than usual. It wasn’t shocking when he sprained his wrist sparring with Shiro and besides, he wasn’t complaining when he had Hunk doting on him constantly, making sure he wrapped it tightly and iced it lovingly.

Lance never really saw himself nuzzling into the curve of Hunk’s neck as anything more than platonic until Hunk finally sat him down and looked into his eyes. The night that Hunk caressed his face like Lance had hung the planets in the sky just for him. The night where, in hushed whispers, the two promised to protect each other through everything, promised to be devoted to the other, promised to love unconditionally and tenderly. Lance could see the stars in Hunk’s eyes, feel the adoration on his skin, taste the love on his lips. Lance was his and he was Lance’s. It was years in the making, but they could finally call themselves boyfriends, partners, lovers.

And if Shiro happened to be rougher now, Lance was too blinded by the love of his life to notice. 

Hunk wasn’t.

It wasn’t lost on Hunk how often Lance stumbled into his room after practice begging to just cuddle rather than properly tend to his wounds. Sure, he was achy and sore but that would pass. Who knew when they would have time to just hold each other, Lance would plead. Still, he would cave when Hunk flashed those eyes at him, so sad and disappointed. Lance would groan before flipping over to his stomach. The soft smile that Hunk always wore dropped once the smaller man tugged his shirt off.

“Lance,” He breathed, startled. “What did he do to you?” Hunk felt his hands beginning to shake slightly, something ferocious toiling just underneath his composed exterior. Deep black and purple splotches suspiciously shaped like the bottom of Shiro’s boots littered his lower back over and over. There were angry, puckered lacerations across his shoulder blades, cutting neat diamonds into his back. His eyes traveled up Lance’s long arms. Red encircled his shoulders as if they were hyperextended for a prolonged period of time and his wrists were wrapped in hand-shaped prints, blooming cautiously over his veins.

“Oh, that?” Lance hummed. “It’s nothing. Shiro just wanted to work on getting out of restraints.” He looked over his shoulder at the larger man and gave him the smile brighter than the stars that he only reserves for his love. “I’m okay, really.” Hunk stubbornly shook his head.

“Don’t give me that bullshit! You can’t expect me to just ignore this! I couldn’t do that for anyone, especially you.” He was standing now, pacing the length of the room. Back and forth. Back and forth. He finally glanced at the smaller man on his bed, cowering into himself. He’d pushed himself against the corner of the small bed, curled into a loose ball, tracing Hunk’s movements with his eyes.

“Please,” He pleaded quietly. “Just leave it alone.” The words sounded far away as if Lance wasn’t really in the room with him. His eyes were unfocused, veiled with memories and moments that Hunk would never see. So he sighed and kneeled before the man, extending a hand, palm up and waited for his love to come back to him. A heavy moment passed between them until finally, finally, he felt tentative fingers take his own. He looked Lance in the eye before speaking.

“You have to understand that right now, you’re the most important thing in my life. If I don’t have you here with me, happy, healthy and smiling, then I’m not doing my job right. I hate seeing you hurting, especially because of someone that you should be able to trust.” He took a breath, searching for any sign of Lance recoiling back into himself. “If I can do anything to stop this, I have to.”

Lance nodded slowly, eyes squeezing closed and the corners of his mouth downturned. He pulled Hunk’s hand with his own and nuzzled softly into his knuckles for a moment. “I just,” He let out a heavy breath. “I just want everyone to be happy.” Hunk freed his hand so he could properly cup Lance’s face. His thumb lightly brushed over the height of his cheekbone.

“And I need you to be safe.” Lance smiled softly at that before kissing the inside of his palm. “Now let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

___

From that day on Hunk made it a point to always train with Lance when Shiro was in the room. The bruises diminished greatly and Lance’s real smile made its way back on his face. His skin was radiant and his hair shined in the light and he was finally happy again. So he loosened his tight hold on Lance. He began to sleep in a little later, trusting that nothing would happen in the dining hall before any of the other paladins got there. He trusted that Lance could take care of himself while walking around the castle alone in an attempt to get away from the memories of his home. 

He figured that when he wasn’t available, Lance would seek out another paladin to train with him, but of course, he didn’t think about what would happen if said paladin left before Lance could. He didn’t think that Lance wouldn’t book it out of the gym once he noticed that it's only other inhabitant was Shiro. But as he walked by the training room on his way to the kitchen and heard the muffled sounds of struggle, he began to think of everything he missed. 

A pit formed in the bottom of his stomach and the floor shook under him as he moved toward the door, bayard in hand. He eased the door open slowly and watched the scene before him play out, horror gripping his throat.

“Look!” Shiro snarled. He tightened his grip on Lance’s hair as he ripped the younger’s head back and forth like a rag doll. “Look at what you made me do!” He roared before pushing Lance’s already bloodied face into the mirror before them, glass splintering and embedding itself into his forehead. Apologies fell from his lips as he tried fruitlessly to push against Shiro’s strength and away from the mirror.

Lance reached back for the hand that was tangled in his hair. Shiro’s arm glowed purple- the smell of burning hair filled the air. Lance sobbed as he tried to flinch away from the hand searing his scalp. “Call your little boyfriend for help.” The man sneered. “Scream like the little bitch you are.” He was seething as he rammed Lance’s skull into the mirror again and again. Hunk began to step into the room just as Shiro finally released the boy. When Hunk went to breathe a sigh of relief, Shiro reached for Lance’s throat with his glowing hand, dragging him so his back was flush against his chest.

His next words made Hunk’s blood run cold.

“I bet you like it like this.” He growled into the crying boy’s ear. “Bet you’d want me to fuck you right here like a good little slut.”

Hunk doesn’t remember activating his bayard. He doesn’t remember turning it to the lowest setting or training the gun on Shiro’s open neck. Pulling the trigger, watching the man fall- they’ve all been erased from his memory. He does remember Lance recoiling from where Shiro’s body fell limp. The blood-curdling shriek that tore from the younger man’s throat was impossible to forget. 

He couldn’t shake the hurt he felt when Lance crawled to Shiro’s crumpled form first though. Even with his own body bloody, bruised, and sweltering, he went to inspect his tormentor first, bleary with the need to help and sick with the idea that somehow this was his fault. Still, he repeated tearful sorry’s as he tried to revive the man. But Hunk kneeled next to him before gently pulling Lance from Shiro’s side. It took some coaxing to get Lance to allow Hunk to carry him to the infirmary to get checked by Coran and a promise that they would send someone to check on Shiro the moment they got there.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whimpered over and over.

“Baby, baby,” Hunk shushed him. “It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault.” He cooed, laying his boyfriend out on the examination table.

Coran choked when he saw the cowering man, skin blackened and hair smoking. “What happened?” He asked lowly, his usual jubilance lost, chased away by his concern.

“Shiro.” Hunk ground out. They shared a knowing look, anger brewing beneath their features before beginning to tend to Lance. A cooling solvent was applied to his neck and scalp and he needed stitches for his cheek. He would be fine physically, but as he flinched when Hunk gently caressed his thigh, he could tell that Shiro seared more than just his skin. 

Hunk dragged Lance from the med bay and away from where Shiro now resided inside the healing pod. They padded into the kitchen softly, no words floating in the air between them. Lance found himself sitting at a stool, Hunk’s back to him. He stared down at his hands where they rested on the granite-like countertop. His head was full of white noise looping and looping. He felt it pushing against his skull as if he would physically implode at any moment. The noise drowned out any hope of a train of thought. Rationalizing was out of the picture.

He dropped his head to the cool counter. He sighed as it calmed his burning skin. It was something to put out the fire inside his mind. The white noise grew louder and more deafening. He covered his ears in a pitiful attempt to drown it out when he felt a warm cup within his fingers. He warily looked up and found a cup piled high with their pink space whipped cream and soft baby blue marshmallows. He suddenly felt the aroma of hot chocolate surrounding him, notes of nutmeg and vanilla wrapping him in a soothing embrace. 

He smiled best he could at Hunk before taking a tentative sip. Then, he quickly downed the scalding drink, burning his mouth horribly but he could worry about that later. The sugary drink warmed him like none other. Hunk chuckled softly from where he sat beside his love, cooly sipping his own, less flamboyant, beverage. 

“You know,” Lance started slowly. “He was just jealous.” Hunk had the decency to only look mildly confused, silently prodding him on with a welcoming not. “He said that I needed a real man. Someone who would break me and train me to be a good little boy.” Lance laughed hysterically. “This guy was training me this entire time and I was too stupid to see it.” He snorted, full laughing at how ridiculous and fucked up the situation was.

Hunk watched his world fall apart as Lance broke down before him. “Lance, honey,” He leaned in to console the boy as his laughs turned into choked sobs. He hushed the smaller boy as he shook in his arms. “We’ll get through this.” He whispered in Lance’s ear.

Even if getting through this mess meant throwing Shiro out of the airlock, he’d do it. Anything to see him smile again and laugh freely and not be scared of his own shadow. Anything to ensure that this broken boy in front of him was pieced back together. As long as Hunk was alive he would never let Lance hurt this way ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> im back from the dead with a shitty fic that i obviously didnt know how to end. uh check me out on tumblr bc im still there
> 
> tumblr.com/langstexmachina
> 
> uh ill see you guys next time i guess. probably with a mcu fic but yeah. bye !
> 
> \- day


End file.
